The Trial of Henry Toddington

[Tahla]

My Queen, and those gathered here,

I have listened carefully to what has been said and much of it is true. Henry Toddington betrayed Andor. He aided those who wished harm upon the realm. People died because of the choices he made. Nothing I say changes those facts, nor do I wish it to. He has admitted his guilt. The question before us is not whether he committed treason.

The question for me is what justice should look like now.

I am not Andoran by birth. I am a woman of the Two Rivers, and a daughter of the blood of Manetheren. The laws of Andor belong to Andor, and I will not presume to tell the Queen how they should be applied. But since we have all been invited to speak, I would offer another perspective.

I have heard many say that grief does not matter. In one sense, I agree. Grief does not excuse what Henry did. Neither does youth. Neither does manipulation. A wrong thing remains wrong regardless of the reason behind it. But understanding a reason is not the same as excusing it. If reasons never mattered, there would be no need for trials, witnesses, or judgment. We would simply count crimes and carry out sentences.

Yet every ruler worthy of the name understands that people are not numbers scratched onto a ledger. The act matters. The person matters too. I have also heard it said that mercy is being offered because Henry is a lord. If that is true, then it is wrong. A shepherd should stand beneath the same measure as a noble. A farmer should stand beneath the same measure as a queen. Fairness that belongs only to the powerful is not fairness at all.

So let me be plain.

If Henry were a shepherd from Emond's Field, I would say the same thing. If he were a blacksmith's son from Deven Ride, I would say the same thing. If he were a farmhand with no name beyond his own, I would say the same thing. My argument is not for a lord. It is for a human being.

To the Wisdoms, I owe an apology. I spoke carelessly when I suggested that Henry should be sent to you. That was not my decision to make. You have your own duties, your own apprentices, and your own people depending upon you. No one has the right to place another burden upon your shoulders.

For that presumption, I deeply apologize.

What I meant was not that the Wisdoms should bear responsibility for him. Only that he should spend whatever years remain to him learning service instead of selfishness. How that lesson is taught is for wiser heads than mine to decide.

Now I come to the heart of the matter.

Many have argued that justice demands death. Perhaps Andor's law agrees with them. That is not for me to say. But I would ask a simple question. What punishment truly weighs more heavily? A single day at the gallows? A short walk, a final breath, and then nothing? Or a lifetime spent carrying the weight of what you have done?

In the Two Rivers, a person earns trust slowly. When that trust is broken, it is not restored with a single apology. It may take years. Sometimes it takes a lifetime. The old blood of Manetheren remembers much the same. Duty was not a thing set aside when it became difficult. A debt was not erased because it became painful. A burden was carried because it was yours to carry.

Henry betrayed his Queen. He betrayed those who fought to rescue him. He betrayed the memory of the man who died trying to save him. Those are burdens that no sentence can erase.

If he dies, they end with him. If he lives, he must carry them every day. Every morning he wakes. Every night he lays his head down. Every year that passes. He will remember the soldiers who died. He will remember the city that suffered. He will remember Den. Most of all, he will remember that he chose the path that led there.

To my mind, that is not mercy. That is a punishment that never truly ends. The dead pay no debts. The living do. A dead man cannot make restitution. A dead man cannot serve the realm. A dead man cannot spend years confronting the consequences of his actions. A living man can. Perhaps the Queen will decide that death is required. If so, I will respect that judgment.

But if there is still a path that allows Henry Toddington to spend the rest of his days repaying what he owes, then I believe that path asks more of him than a swift death ever could. That is why I speak as I do. Not because I believe him innocent. Not because I believe him undeserving of punishment. But because I believe some burdens are heavier when carried for a lifetime.

Lady Tahla ni Rahein t' al'Arad
Red Eagle of Manetheren

[Chloro]

Chloro bided her time in line with the rest of the nobility to air grievances in the reception hall of the Andorian royal palace. No doubt others had sought to influence Morgase on how to treat this boy, but a level head was needed now, and Morgase was anything but at this time. There was one royal, that could turn her head if needed. Mothers always did favor the youngest males.

The floor length skirt of blue silk rustled as she moved a step forward with the line, heavy bustle swaying slight. The waist coat was nearly as tight as her corset and the feathers in her blue suede hat could give any peacock a run for their money. It was torture being this garish in public, but times were tough, and there is little other way to get the message she needed across..

As her time came she pulled the hat forward slightly to hide the upper part of her face and eyes, she looked like any other noble until they could see her eyes. Reaching a lace gloved hand into her purse she pulled out a square of folded paper sealed in gray wax with a kestrel catching a snake. Her own signet developed over the years.

Dropping in a deep half kneel, half curtsy she offered up the letter to Gawyn. Waiting for him to take it before she lifted her head enough for the boy to see her full face and icey gray eyes. The expression he made told her, he knew exactly who she was. Standing gracefully she nodded to him in respect, he need some sort of boost if he was to change his mothers mind. Then she offered a "Light illumine Queen Morgase" before turning and departing.

The hat was tossed in a dust bin near the entrance to the foyer, she could suffer it no longer. Dark red hair spilling over her shoulders she headed for the library and her sister Masuri.


Within the folded square:


To the Honorable Prince Gawyn,

It troubles me that we have met of late due to some political incident or other, but I am glad to see your political knowledge grow. Many will plead with your mother to execute Henry Toddington. That would be a mistake young prince. An execution would make him a martyr and harbor further division in Andor.

He must however be made an example of, before another high seat thinks to challenge your mother for the throne. She may best be served by stripping the entire family of noble status, and banishing Henry from Andor. There is little chance Henry pulled off that stunt alone, with so many men, other houses where involved. If high seats thought they could loose everything, they might be dissuaded not to attempt it in the first place.

What ever her decision, it should not be execution, there is to much to loose should other nobles use his death to insight a coup.

With Care,
The woman with gray eyes.

[Artorias]

Artorias moved with sure steps as he danced from one form to another. Barely any movement wasted in what some would call a dance, while others would call it "flailing around with your weapon". It has been almost a week since the events in Andor. All anyone has been talking about is what should happen to Henry Toddington. He's just a boy some argue. Show mercy and forgive him. Others want to see his head removed from his body. If that is what the Queen wanted, then it would have been done the day he was captured. Again, scenes from that day flashed by in his mind, the screaming mercenaries leading squads of bandits. "Squads of bandits" he muttered as he practiced spinning his trident that, in his mind would block multiple foes attacks. To those watching it just looked like wasted movement and stamina to spin it around his body like that.

When was the last time he had seen an army of bandits and murderers? How long had it been since he had seen man pitted against man like what happened a week ago. For years now he has always been in the Blight, fighting the blasted Shadowspawn and those who would aid the Dark One. "So many dead and injured, the Queen included all because someone got into that boys head. There is no way that boy was able to gather all of those so-called Bandit Lords and organize an army that size. Let alone get them all to work together and siege Caemlyn. Getting into the Royal Palace and having the Queen herself spill blood in the throne room.

As he started to remember the events of that day, his weapon started to slow and his movements become sloppy. "So many bodies" he thought as he remembered storming the three bandit hideouts. He had to of killed almost one hundred bandits that day. "So much blood" he muttered, not realizing that others were starting to look at him oddly because of his muttering. "Not only were we led away from the city on a wild goose chase, but the city itself was overrun and the bandits laid in waiting." He saw flashes of the Aes Sedai who were overwhelmed as they entered into the Western Gate. Of Maddy being struck down from her horse after Kokoro was overwhelmed. Feeling his knuckles pop he looked down at his weapon. "Maddy may not be my partner, but I've always had a soft spot for her" he thought to himself as he tried to relax again.

He remembered fighting his way back to the throne room and regrouping with the Queen and what soldiers she could muster. How the "boy" strode in like he owned the place. Staring them all down and putting the blame for Den's death at the feet of Adael and all of Andor. "That was not someone who will just magically become a good person" he breathed out between strikes. "No, that was someone who might have started out as being tricked and used but ultimately gave in to those thoughts and now believes whole heartedly what was told to him. There is no changing someone's mind once they cross that line." Coming to a stop, Artorias looked around the practice yard at the all the warder students. He noticed the Novices and Accepted watching the Gaidin and students practice. His eyes met Coulin's who gave him a grim nod, almost as if he knew what Artorias was going to do before he did himself.

"I have lost one home once already. I will not lose another. I will do what must be done to protect this place and all those who call it home as well." Having made up his mind he worked his way towards his quarters where he donned his armor and cloak. The same cloak that still had the Queen's own blood on it from that day, somehow refusing to come out no matter what he tried. Almost as if it was there to remind him and anyone else that would listen of what was almost lost that day. He strode to the stables and mounted his horse as he tossed the stableman a gold piece before leaving the city. "I always think better when I'm training or staying busy. I already know that not many will like or agree with what I have to say."

Arriving at the Royal Palace of Caemlyn, he dismounted and strode towards the reception hall. Eyeing the line of nobles and others all waiting for an audience or whatever nobles loitered around for, he walked right past them all to Prince Gawyn. "I need to speak to your mother" he told him, getting an incredulous look back. "Or Gareth. Yea Gareth might be better. He will understand better and know why I propose what I do." As Gawyn just stared at him and the others in line broke out into chatter, Artorias pulled his cloak forward and rubbed the blood stain absent mindedly. "Everyone is going on about Henry. I want to find Sarinda Sedai. I can get him to talk if you have no one else that can. Or try to at least" he said with more force than he intended. "Some have already said that there has to be someone else involved in all of this. We need to find out how many and who if we can" he said loud enough for most of those near them to hear. "Now please, send someone to tell Gareth I need to talk to him."

[Florry]

Florry moved through the crowd of people talking of what to do with that Andoran noble, Henry Toddington. As she expertly made her way through the thing of people, the jingle of coins could be heard wherever she went. She would stop here and there to listen to both the common folk and those with titles take on what happened. The crowd was split quite heavily, and she did not envy the Queen of Andor having to sort this all out.

Her stride took her next to dangerous looking fellows like the man with blood on his cloak or that ragamuffin from Emond’s Field dressed in the garb of a Red Eagle. Funny how the sound of clinking coins could vanish when she tried to listen in closer.
Eventually, she found herself next to the merchants and artisans of the city who came to see what was going on. They, like the rest of the crowd, were split on what to do with Henry. A baker called for the sparing of the boy. A weapon smith wanted him beheaded simply for association with the bandits. Many more were arguing with each other over what should be done. She scanned the crowd, taking it all in. Eventually her eyes met those of another she recognized. A man, stout and plump, with a pink face and a terrible comb-over. He smiled to her, waving for her to come closer.

“Mistress Tojinski! It is good to see you, despite such dark times. I trust you’ll be staying at the Queen’s Blessing? Your chamber is still cleaned and waiting since you've been generous enough to rent the room out for the year.” The man smiled wide as he spoke, his little comb-over waving in the breeze.

“Master Gil, it has been far too long since we last spoke. Business has kept me occupied here in Andor, and I will most certainly be using your establishment to rest and relax. No place more worthy of my coin than the Queen's Blessing after all!” replies Florry. She would offer a nod of greeting to Master Gil’s strongarm, a man named Lamgwin. After a moment, she continued “Terrible tidings, what with the Lord Toddington affair. I was there for his rescue alongside the others. Even knocked Cake unconscious with a lucky throw. I can't say I ever expected this to be the ultimate outcome though.”

Basel Gil ran a hand through what was left of his greying hair. “Yes, it is quite unfortunate. Everyone seems to have their own opinion on what should be done but none seem to be able to come to a consensus. What do you make of all this, Mistress Tojinski?”

Florry nodded to show she heard the man’s question. “It is a difficult question to answer, Master Gil. I have heard a great many opinions on the matter already. Those who claim the law should be black and white, and followed to the letter. Those who say that there should be compassion and consideration. Perhaps the answer truly lies within a compromise of those, but I can't say.”

“Still, you ask of me my opinion and as such, I will give it to you freely. It is my opinion that the child noble not be put to death. Not because I disagree with the law or think his situation requires consideration but solely because if he's dead then he has no value.”

“I do not care if he finds forgiveness or a change of heart down the road. It is likely if he remains in Andor that he will never find solace here and his actions will forever haunt him going forward. No one here or in Andor will ever not associate him with today's actions. I don't care if he lives with guilt for what he's done either.”

“I still see value in Henry's existence. As a noble, he knows how to read and write at the very least. His body is in good condition, excluding the beatings he's probably been through. There are plenty of tasks one could have this fool of noble do that would increase the bottom line of the Treasury, even if it means just that the task can be done unpaid. Send him to the mines in the Black Hills, for example.”

"That woman over there, the one in armor bearing the Flame of Tar Valon and the other from Emond's Field have some good points. The lad’s titles should obviously be stripped, his family should have their wealth and worldly positions confiscation and claimed by the Crown to use for recompense for the damages done to the city during the raid. But he should still be made an example of by the Crown, punished fittingly and to toil for the Crown until his body breaks.”

Master Gil had gone quiet during her speech, but Lamgwin would comment “Is it all just about profits to you, merchant?”

Florry scoffed at the notion. “Of course profits are important. Everyone and everything has a value that can expire. It's never easy to cut emotion from business. And unfortunately, this is business for the Crown of Andor. Her product is the fate of Henry Toddington and her customers are all of us. She has to make the choice that satisfies the customers the most, and one that she gets the most value out of.”

“I really don't envy her.”

[Saphira]

To the Queen of Andor and the Council of Caemlyn,

I am Saphira, only a simple traveler now, but originally a daugher of Shienar. I hold no titles and claim no station, but the news of the treachery in Caemlyn compels me to speak.

Some here plead for leniency, calling Henry a broken child blinded by grief. In the Borderlands, we know grief intimately - the Shadow robs every family eventually. Yet we do not allow sorrow to excuse the betrayal of our neighbors. By guiding bandits into the heart of Caemlyn, this boy did not just strike at a personal enemy; he invited a plague into his own home.

But do not waste his life on the gallows, and do not harbor a traitor in Andoran cells either. Exile him to the northern border of the blight and conscript him into the Shienaran ranks. Make him pledge his life to the people; to defend the world rather than tear it down. If he survives, then the cold winds of the north may eventually hammer his bitter rage into a shield for the realm.

[Liia]

A weary looking pigeon flutters down to the roost in the palace of Caemlyn. Once a strong, proud little bird, this one appears to be injured, favoring a bent wing. Perhaps it was attacked by a hawk as it winged its way south, delaying its delivery... on one leg is attached a cylinder emblazoned with the flame of Tar Valon and the recognizable color of the Brown Ajah. Inside the letter reads:

Queen Morgase Trakand, Queen of Andor,

I hope my letter finds you well and recovered from the wound you received the day of the attack on your city. I thought it prudent to write this letter and send it immediately after that day while the events were still fresh in my mind. I'm sure you will be receiving many similar messages of well wishes and advice over the next week.

With that on mind, I thought I'd throw in my own thoughts on the matter. While international law is not a speciality of mine (I leave that to my sister's of the Gray Ajah), I have experienced a long life and have read of many treasonous acts in many lands. Taking in all the facts, I feel that what this boy has committed is unforgivable. No matter his background, his upbringing, his sorrows throughout his life, he had many many choices to make as he made his plans. At every step he chose to continue. At every step he did not take what could have been a more peaceful path. Treason is treason. Citizens and warriors alike lost their lives, a Sister may have gone missing, countless others were put in harms way. In fact, had not as many showed up in Andor's defense, there may not be an Andor as we know it today!

I believe that while execution could be warranted, a life in prison could be a more fitting punishment. He would be forced to face the consequences of his actions. A swift death by executioner would teach him nothing except for a quick lesson that would not be retained. Exile would be too easy. Farm work or conscription too risky. What is to say he wouldn't take his freedom and try again? He always took that path before.

Seize all of his assets, whatever he may still retain, and use the proceeds to try to help rebuild what can be rebuilt. Lock him up.

It is a heavy choice you have to make, but I am sure you will make the correct one.

Signed,
Liia Averon, Aes Sedai of the Brown Ajah

[Kitiara]

Kitiara Sedai of the Blue Ajah sat at the long table in Morgase's Private Conference Room observing the recovering Queen.

Kitiara Sedai starts, 'Queen Morgase, I have read and heard the various arguments for what to do with the boy who seemingly led the bandits. Many including some of my Aes Sedai Sisters call for Justice, and that Justice is to punish the boys treason with his life. Others are calling for the boys imprisonment or conscription. And others still seek to give the boy a chance at rehabilitation.'

Kitiara Sedai, sitting stiff backed with her eyes locked on the former Tower Initiate, 'Many conflate the idea of Justice with the idea of the law. However we both know that Justice and a nations laws are not always, or even often, the same thread of the Wheel. I for one do no believe that any true Justice can be had here.'

'A boy was faced with tragedy and saw not the crimes of his fathers murderers but instead the failings of his Queens protection.'

Kitiara Sedai pauses a moment as she looks at the Queen, 'What Justice does a Queen face when her house is out of order? One of your most decorated guardsman and your best general jailed for the temper of a Queen whose responsibility in this attack she has still yet to address.'

'We both should be glad for the boys attempt, for in his foolishness he went to try and deceive your greatest ally. Imagine if the boy or more likely the bandit lords, had been more strategic and approached your enemies.'

Kitiara Sedai lets that sit a moment as she watches the Queen, and then she stands,

'So you have several options. There is an easy option for you to appear strong to the common man. You could kill the boy, make it public, remove his titles, proclaim Justice as having been served under the law... however that does nothing to address the failings of Andors Queen in regards to the bandits. It does nothing to reassure your noble houses of their safety, and it reminds them that their place among the nobility is subject to change.'

'You could jail the boy or conscript him. Claim mercy has been served, and a young noble boy becomes a basic soldier. Perhaps a middle ground, though a path that does little to reaffirm your strength to the Andorian Nobility'

'The harder option I believe is that you should pardon the boy fully, in a speech where you admit the tragedy of this attack was a failure of the Lion Throne. That the boys Queen failed the boy and his father in preventing the Bandits from taking so strong a hold so close to Caemlyn. Meet the boy with compassion, forgiveness and an apology for his fathers death. And then reaffirm the strength of the Lion Throne in how it does not hide its failures but instead addresses and corrects them. Lean on how quickly the coalition YOU put together was able to not only raid the bandits strongholds, but was able to do so and still make it back to Caemlyn in time to foil their deception. Involve the boy in your houses dealings, build him up and turn him into an example of how a good and Just Queen can rule her nation with accountability and mercy. Force the boys house into one of Trakands closest allies.'

'Of course the boy would be watched, and trained to ensure he is no longer influenced by your enemies, and if, privately, after the public has turned on to whatever the Wheel weaves next, the boy seems unable to redirect his vitriol... he can be taken care of quietly.'

Kitiara Sedai moves towards the door which opens smoothly to her flows of Air and Earth. She pauses and turns back, 'The mob often calls for easy solutions to complicated problems. It is the job of the Lights leaders to look past the easy solutions and choose the right ones. The ones that build and maintain strength to keep the forces of Light strong in its battle against the Shadow.'

Kitiara Sedai pauses and nods her head respectfully towards the Queen of Andor before leaving the Conference room, doors sliding shut as she passes through them.

[Kiltwich]

Before we can get to the young Toddington's punishment, I believe there are few bandit related topics that we need to get to the bottom of:

First and foremost, the relationship between the Toddingtons and the bandits. An Andoran noble's son is captured and held ransom? Not the first time this has happened.
The son then "joins" the bandits, and blames the Guard for killing his caretaker instead of the bandits? Now, that one is new. Perhaps his eyes blinded by anger and grief to believe such a thing? Possible, but doubtful.
But he wasn't there to witness the event, so who told him what story for him to believe it was Adael himself responsible for Den's demise? Certainly not one of the guard, that much is certain.

The son then uniting multiple bandit groups to raid Caemlyn? Now, don't get me wrong, I believe the bandits performed the raid -- I witnessed it myself. But to say this boy lead them, coordinated them, and rallied them? Preposterous! But for a boy gullible enough to believe the guard were at fault for murdering a man raiding a bandit hideout to rescue him? I doubt it would take much convincing to make the boy believe it was his idea -- it makes getting a host of clothing, wagons, and paperwork under a noble's name to easily pass through Caemlyn's gates a lot easier.

To pin this on the boy alone, as if he had the resources and authority to pull it off without outside help, is also preposterous. But more importantly -- he ought to know and be able to identify those connected to the preparation of this raid, those who knew full well the bandit affiliation that it would support, as well as a good number that ought to have raised questions or suspicion.
And before we get to his punishment, we need to get that information out of him, and quickly. Which leads to what must be done with him.


Now, for the punishment of Toddington. There is only one suitable for such traitorous action that results in the deaths of many cityfolk and guards: Henry Toddington ought to be drawn and quartered, least he provide sufficient value in information to justify a lesser punishment.
As Henry is a noble boy, raised by a caretaker, and has very little expertise with the penal system, it would be helpful for him to learn what that punishment is. And there is no better way than for him to don the midnight garb of the executioner, draw a deserving bandit, limb by limb, to warhorse by warhorse, manacle to rope to four warhorses, and then give the signal. But it does not end there, he must then retrieve the four sections of severed bandit and hang them at the gallows. Starting from the section connected to the torso that is likely still screaming in agony.
Finally, Toddington shall handle the clean up by himself. The sanding of the blood and broomwork of the bandit's filth until the road is clean and fit for man and horse to walk upon.
From there, we will see what Toddington has to say; what information he will provide; what he has to barter with, to reduce his punishment.

Or, he can hold his tongue and get the just and deserved end of a bandit and traitorous noble that would stab his country in the back. His intentions, misguided or otherwise, matter nought; the wives and children of the guardsmen who fell weep every night, and no amount of leniency toward his actions will bring those men back. And there should be an exceptionally high bar of value for information to reduce Toddington's punishment to something below a hanging or beheading by axe.


There has not ever been a bandit who "felt sorry" for what he did, or regretted their actions. Their only regret is getting caught. And any mercy provided will allow them to create more victims, to hurt more people as they express their selfish desires. They ask for forgiveness, they ask for mercy, and they lie as easily as they breathe. The idea that a bandit will change their ways and become a law-abiding citizen is a fool's fantasy that has no basis in reality, and will only hurt yet more people, and only peddled by those who have never had to interact with bandits, muggers, and highwaymen at any point in their blessed lives. The ordinary people that do run into them are very unfortunate, and it needs to be the duty of the guard to minimize the occurrence of ordinary people becoming unfortunate in that way, to the maximum extent possible.